Exactomundo
by AnnHoj
Summary: Greg meets the last person he ever thought he'd find in a chat room...And what in the world do you do when Sara gives you a basket of lemons? It's a bad summary, just read it...
1. Chapter 1

Okay, so this was my first fanfic ever, but I never eally got around to posting it. It's a two-chapter fic, kinda short. I don't know that season it fits into, because Greg acts more like he did when he was in the lab, but he's working out in the field. Hope you like it, but if you don't, please be easy on me.

* * *

It was nearly a whole hour before his shift was to start, yet Greg bounded into the break room with a cheesy smile plastered across his face. Now at times this could have been quite normal for him, especially if he had a day off eating a rack of lamb and sleeping in. But in this case, it was quite different.

"Hey, you have a hot date last night, Greggo?" Nick questioned, after his reading of National Geographic was rudely interrupted.

"Not exactly, but I met this girl about a month ago. She's so…so hot!" He starts to sound as if he was back in high school once again…not that he really got anywhere then either.

"Where did you meet her?" He started to laugh at the way he paced the floor in front of the coffee table. He didn't need any of his Blue Hawaiian, he was already plenty awake for the both of them. Maybe now he could convince Greg that he should think about sharing the wealth.

"On the internet…forensics chat room." He winced at how pathetic he had just sounded.

"A chat room? Then how do you know she's hot?"

Greg took a seat on the couch beside Nick to explain. "It's just her mind. I mean, she's funny and smart. She got in to Harvard, Nick! Harvard! You know how good you have to be to get in there? They wouldn't even let me go to school there."

"What ever happened to blonde hair, impossible green eyes and legs that go on forever?"

"No…no, I don't think she's like that. I've…I've got this picture of her in my head. She's like this Natalie Portman kind of girl, you know. The smart man's Britney."

"Since when have you been 'the smart man'?"

"Hey, who went to Stanford? Me, not you." He acknowledged Nick's subtle insult, but then continues his gushing. "And she sounds so cool, you know. She and I work the same schedules, so every night after work we talk for like three hours. She likes Chunky monkey ice cream…and…Oasis. She actually listens to Oasis. Do you know what Oasis is?" He paused for a moment to let him answer.

"Uh…no."

"Exactly. She knows. And for your information, it's a band, a British band circa 1995-ish to…well, they just released a new album last May, even though they used to hate each other. I still don't understand that, but anyway…"

"So you've really grown up there Greggo. Then again you can't exactly analyze her DNA or whatever other creepy science related attempts to find your 'soul mate' like you do with every one else."

"Should I ask her to come to Vegas so we can meet? I mean, I can't really go out to Los Angeles to meet her. Man, you've got to help me here!"

"You've never seen her before. How do you know she's not some old lady or…or a man? How about just a picture?" Grissom entered the room followed by his other three CSIs to hand out assignments and all went silent.

Greg unlocked the door to his apartment after a long night at work trying to wrap up Sara's and his last case. Working out on the field wasn't nearly as mind numbing as being stuck in the lab processing earwax or whatever else someone dropped off and always wanted five minutes ago, and finally having a legitimate reason to talk to Sara wasn't too bad either. But he had to admit he was always exhausted after shift, both physically and mentally.

He took off his jacket and tossed it on to a chair where his emergency change of clothes laid neatly folded in case he got called in on short notice. Then he disappeared back to his bedroom and quickly changes into a pair of pajama pants and an old tee shirt, then planted himself in front of his computer screen, though not before helping himself to a pint of chunky monkey Ben and Jerry's.

He logged on to his instant messenger and scanned down his buddy list. This, of course, isn't a really long list, considering he didn't have much of a social life outside of work, but she was on.

Talking to his mystery woman was always a nice end to a hectic shift, but one can never tell if a person is who they say they are, as Nick had warned. For all he knows, janedoe could have been in fact a senile old lady desperate to find friends outside of the home, but he doubted it.

Lab-rat: How was work today?

Jane-doe: boring

Lab-rat: ditto, but I look forward to my nightly chat

Lab-rat: can I at least know your name?

Jane-doe: you could be some kind of serial killer

Labrat: very funny

Jane-doe: I see this stuff all the time

Lab-rat: how do I know you're not some creepy old man?

Jane-doe: you send your pic, I send mine

Lab-rat: it might crash your computer you know

Jane-doe: I'm coming to Vegas with friends this weekend. Why don't you meet me?

Lab-rat: you won't give your name, but you want me to meet you in person?

Jane-doe: I can trust you

Lab-rat: where?

Jane-doe: hard to get kidnapped in public

Lab-rat: front of the Bellagio fountain 5?

Jane-doe: how will I know who you are?

Lab-rat: "hello, my name is…" stickers?

Lab-rat: I'm kidding

Jane-doe: I like green, wear something green

Lab-rat: lime

Jane-doe: perfect

Lab-rat: w/ stripes?

Lab-rat: polka dots?

Lab-rat: you know, I like hot pink, would you wear pink?

Jane-doe: this Barbie doesn't wear pink

Jane-doe: what…do you wear pink?

Jane-doe: seriously

Lab-rat: it was the 80's

Jane-doe: is red good?

Lab-rat: works for me

Jane-doe: I got to go…work tomorrow

Jane-doe: see you Sat. 5

Lab-rat: exactomundo!

Jane-doe: sweet dreams

Lab-rat: you too

Jane-doe: --has signed off--

Greg got up from the computer's glow and retired to his room. He had stopped for a quick bite to eat on his way home, normally he'd stay up a bit longer and flip though the hundreds of cable channels he'd just gotten, but frankly, he was too tired.

He walked around his bed to pull the black out shades down on the two windows to the right of where he slept. He sat down on the edge of the bed, slipping the old shirt over his head and tossing it on to a pile of clothes in the corner. Whether they were clean clothes or dirty ones, he wasn't so sure. He set the alarm clock perched on the nightstand beside him and finally crawled into the unmade bed, feeling the warm sheets on his bare back.

"I look like…a geek." Greg confessed, staring intently into the mirror as he adjusts his green striped tie. It was to be his first day in court, which was, how he saw it, the only downside to working outside the lab.

"How is it that you spend more time in front of the mirror than any woman I know?" Sara walked up behind him, startling him slightly, He didn't normally talk to himself, or at least that's what he wanted people to assume.

"I'm pretty sure Catherine does." He tried to smooth down his hair from standing on end. "How else do you think she looks like that at her age?"

"I bet she'd just love to hear that one."

"I meant that as a compliment."

"No wonder you have problems with women." She said, getting her forensics vest out of her locker.

"Trust me; I've had my fair share of women." He got defensive, trying to part his hair on the side much like his mother did when he was a young boy.

"How come I've never met any of them before?" He stared into the mirror trying to think of a good answer, but she messed up his hair before walking towards the door. "Exactly…can't you use the same gallon tub of stuff for good not evil?"

After a long Friday surrounded by judges and lawyers, it was finally Saturday. He parked his car in the parking lot near by and walked over toward the fountain where he'd agreed to meet his mystery woman. He'd had worn a striped lime green shirt that buttoned down the front, just as he said he would. He scanned the crowd for a Queen Amidela look a like dressed in red, but had no luck.

"She doesn't own pink…why, every woman has something pink, right…everyone wears red. How am I ever supposed to find her?" He muttered under his breath.

"Greg?" A voice behind him asked.

"Sara?" He turned around to see her leaning against the railing bordering the fountain pool.

"What are you doing here?"

"Looking for my mystery woman."

She laughed. "Can't get a date?"

"No, I already have one."

"Has she seen you?"

"No." He replied sadly. "I met her on the internet. She said she'd meet me here now, but she's late. She's here for the weekend with some friends."

"She lied."

"What do you mean, she will be here." He told her, sounding more like he's convincing himself the same. "Maybe she already is and there are just too many people wearing red around here. But I've got my green on, so at least she can find me."

"I think she already has."

"Where?" He peeked over his shoulder excitedly, trying to see her. "Where is she…is she hot?"

"I don't know…meet your Jane Doe." Sara said, extending her hand for a hand shake.

"No way!" He took another look to see brown haired Sara wearing a red tee shirt and a pair of jeans. "How many times did we talk about work, and how did nothing ever click? I said I was a CSI, but I used to work in a lab and annoy my co-workers all day." She nodded her head in agreement, but now that he had been set free from the lab, he was a lot more tolerable for some reason. "I didn't act much different then than I do at work. Now you on the other hand…you lied to me, you don't work in LA, you're not here on vacation with friends…you don't even have any other friends!"

"It's a chat room, that's what you always do. At least I didn't actually say I looked like Natalie Portman. You just figured that because I said I had brown hair and went to Harvard."

"True, but how…I mean…so many people are on the internet and you are the one I meet. I think I should buy a lottery ticket or go to the Rampart with my luck. At least I can know for sure you're not a serial killer…I think."

"Or an old bald man."

"You know I was going to ask this Jane out for something to eat, but I've already asked you before, and you said no…five times."

"I'd love to."

"Really?" He questioned to check if his ears were working correctly. "The guilt trip works every time." Sara shoved him into the railing slightly, but Greg, of course, made a big deal out of his 'broken arm'.

"Where shall we go?"

"That's your choice my lady."

"You know, we could have gone some where nicer. Ask anyone, I'm not that cheap when it comes to dates." Greg said as she sits down in a booth opposite him in a small diner not far from the lab.

"You said I could pick, so I did. I'm not really one for fancy…and you're calling this is a date?"

"Well, it was going to be, until you showed up."

"You aren't going to say anything to Grissom about this, are you?" Sara pleaded.

"Date, what date?

"Thanks."

"Why? You don't want him to get jealous because you're out with another man?" She didn't look too amused by his comment. "Come on Sara, I know it, we all know it…all of us except you two." His voice suddenly became uncharacteristically serious. "He is alone because he chooses to be that way. If he'd rather spend his nights with his bugs over you, it's not your fault; he's just stupid."

That's the one thing he never understood about Gil. He was so gifted at noticing the overlooked on cases, but it came to his real life, he was oblivious to everything right in front of his face. Greg would only be so lucky to have a girl like Sara, but he never could. It would be too complicated, and Sara, he doubted, ever once thought of him as more that just an annoying friend.

"You're just saying that because I always turn you down."

"No, I'm not, Sara. I'm just stating the truth."

Sara didn't respond, in fact neither of them spoke to the other for the rest of the meal. Sara hardly moved her eyes from her plate. Greg just figured he said something he shouldn't have, what it was, he didn't have the slightest idea. That was just how Sara always was; she got ticked off by the simplest things. He didn't mean to make her angry, he just wanted to help. He really liked Sara, he wanted her to be happy, and as he saw it, forgetting Grissom was the only way that could be.

In reality, she wasn't upset by what Greg had said, more amazed. Other people had tried to make her see the light, but none quite like him. They all would throw her hints or try to set her up with someone else, but nothing ever happened. No one had been so bold or blatantly honest to just come out and say it.

"Well…" Greg said standing up from the table and pulling his wallet from his back pocket. "…I should be getting to work."

"Here's my half of the bill." She handed him a five dollar bill. "And I'll get the tip."

"No…no, it's okay." He threw it back on the table and walks away, leaving Sara alone and completely

confused.

* * *

Reviews are greatly appreciated...


	2. Chapter 2

Okay, yeah I figured the first chapter wasn't proofread very well. I apologize for that. Usually I'm a complete perfectionist when it comes to that, but I had to go somewhere. Hopedully this is a bit better.The summary was about both chapters...this is where the lemons come in to play, if that makes things less confusing.

* * *

"Greg…Sara." They both turned toward the break room door a bit jumpy at the sound of Grissom's voice, worry that somehow hehad gotten word of the day's incident through the lab gossip. 

"What?" They both asked in unison.

He sounded rather enthusiastic. "Hope you're in a good mood…"

"Why, what now?" Sara asked annoyed. She could tell already this was going to be a long day.

"Decomp…found by Lake Mead…DB unidentified."

"No…no. I've never done a decomp before! Isn't there anyone else, like…Nick…Nick would love to do it!" Greg unconvincingly tried to bargain his way out. He knew how bad decomps could be. Sara had tossed her cookies in the nearest trash can and had to take five showers in one day to get the smell to go disappear.

"No, Nick is busy with his own case…as is everyone else on shift, except for my two lucky CSIs right here." Grissom gestured to them both, rubbing it in. Gil handed over the paperwork and Sara took it, though not without a sigh and one angry look before leaving.

* * *

"Breathe through your mouth, not your nose." Sara warned before pushing open the heavy door to the coroner's office, followed slowly behind by Greg. "What are we looking at for today? Duffel bag, tool chest?" 

"Golf bag." David walked over to the table and unzipped the bag. "The bones appear adult size." He pulled out a skull and what looked like the Tibia, at least part of one. "I think this is a gunshot wound." He pointed to a hole in the side of the scull. "And it looks as if this bone was severed port-mortem. Possibly to make the body fit in the bag. Just a guess." His voice came out in an odd nasal tone as the smell became increasingly worse as they went on.

Greg struggled to keep from breathing through his nose, reacting to the stench greatly. Though she'd done this before, Sara had to turn her head for a quick moment to control her stomach as well.

"Any personal items for identification?"

"Looks like a jacket…" He took it out of the bagand set it on the table. "…and, oh, a wallet."

"Would a driver's license be preserved enough to get a name."

"The lab should be able to get something."

"What else is in there?"

"Not much more than bones."

"There should be more, like…like organs or something." The rookie questioned.

"Not in a decomp, all that's left is…"

"Soup." Sara finished.

The coroner tipped the bag enough to let the brownish thick liquid pour out on to the wash table. Greg reacted by covering his mouth...a big mistake.

"Whoa, Greg. You okay?" Sara sounded quite concerned with all of Greg's coughing.

"Oh yeah, in through the mouth, out through the nose…in through the…what the hell did I ever do to Grissom!" He yelled,and for once made Sara crack up.

"You can take this stuff to the examining room and process it for further evidence."

Sara packed the items into bio-hazard bags as the coroner washed the soup down the drain and packed the bones for cremation.

* * *

"Someone told Grissom, I just know they did…was it you Sara?" He spread the jacket out on the table. 

"No…I didn't. And even if I did he wouldn't punish you with decomp duty." She looked through the wallet. "I can't get ID off this; we need to send it to the lab."

"Why did I ever want to get out of the lab? Why…stupid…stupid."

"From the looks of the jacket, I think it's a woman."

"Or a very feminine man, this is Vegas, you've seen how oddpeople in this city can be."

"No, I'm pretty sure this is a woman, Greg...Is this a matchbook or something? If the lab can find something on it, we can get a location of where she might have last been."

"Did you tell Nick about earlier? Don't, please don't, he'd have a field day with it." He didn't seem concerned about work at the moment, more so about what his friend would think about him first having to meet someone on the internet and then finding out she was actually his co-worker.

"Why, don't want him to get jealous because you were out with a woman?" She threw back the same kind of comment he gave her earlier.

"Sara, what have I told you before? Nick and my relationship is complicated." He said to her with a serious look on his face. Sara tried not to laugh, but once Greg started to she couldn't help it. "Oh!" He yelled. "Clothespin!"

"What?"

"I need a clothes pin!" He coughed, trying to plug his nose.

"Why?"

"Don't ask questions! Just get me a damn clothes pin!" He ran across the room, pushing his way past Sara to the garbage can behind her. He then stunned the black plastic bag lining with his digestive pyrotechnics, while Sara just stood over him laughing. She crouched down beside him, placing a comforting hand on his back, thinking better than just making fun of him. He'd never done this before, she knew first hand how rough it could be.

He stood back up, wiping his mouth on the sleeve of his lab coat, and smiled down to Sara, trying not to show his embarrassment. He was a guy...guys weren't supposed to do that.

"What are you looking at…back to work!"

* * *

Greg walked back from just dropping off the new evidence with Mia at the lab, and met up with Sara in the hallway. 

"I smell…like death." Greg announced. "I just about made Mia pass out. I changed my clothes…which I'll have to burn…oh, my favorite shirt." He closed his eyes in mourning.

"Uh, have you thought of a shower?" She fanned the smell away from her face.

"Did you?"

"Yes. Grissom will let you take a few minutes out of your work day to save the noses in this lab. So go…de-smell yourself."

"You know, Sara…you still smell." Sara didn't seem too pleased. "But you…wear it well."

* * *

Jane-doe: still smell? 

Lab-rat: 3 showers later, I still smell like a can of tuna in the hot Vegas sun.

Jane-doe: lemons

Lab-rat: what?

Jane-doe: Grissom told me to use lemons in the shower, it works

Lab-rat: I'm desperate. I'll try anything

Jane-doe: Why are you still talking to me?

Lab-rat: Why wouldn't I?

Jane-doe: the diner, you walked out on me

Lab-rat: I did not

Jane-doe: did too

Lab-rat: you seemed angry

Jane-doe: no I was just thinking

Lab-rat: why

Jane-doe: you were right

Jane-doe: I'm going to ask him one more time, he says no, I'll forget about him.

Lab-rat: when will you ask?

Jane-doe: when he's in a good mood

Lab-rat: you seem a lot different now than in person

Jane-doe: so I'm easier to talk to when you can't see my face?

Lab-rat: that's not what I meant

Jane-doe: I know

Lab-rat: I thought you were someone completely different

Lab-rat: you seemed so nice, but at work you're…

Jane-doe: not the most pleasant person to be around

Lab-rat: or other choice words

Jane-doe: I've got to go

Lab-rat: I have a date with some lemons

Jane-doe: do u still want to talk to me on here?

Jane-doe: now you know I'm not who you though I was

Lab-rat: of course

Jane-doe: or you could use the phone

Lab-rat: I don't know your number

Lab-rat: you refused to tell me when I asked before

Lab-rat: oh god I smell

Jane-doe: good luck

Lab-rat: you too

Jane-doe: what?

Lab-rat: Grissom

Lab-rat: --has signed off--

Greg got up from his computer and retreated with the two lemons that had been sitting on the counter for a near month to the bathroom once again. Third shower is supposed to be a charm...right?

* * *

The next morning, Greg sat on the break room couch reading, when Sara walked in. She paused slightly before walking over behind him and bent down to his level. 

"What are you doing?" Greg asked, setting down his surf magazine.

"You smell like…cheap cologne…" She took another whiff. "…and orange glow furniture polish."

"I ran out of lemons…so I used oranges before coming to work."

"Lab has something on the DB." She said, holding back her laughter.

* * *

"Okay so the match book was from a wedding…a Janet and Steve Cohen." 

"Look up missing persons report." Sara advised, looking over Greg's shoulder to the computer database in front of him.

"But anyone at that wedding could have had that."

"Not when the wedding is a month from now."

Greg typed the woman's name into the computer and waited for a hit. "Janet Morgan...soon to be Cohen, last seen two months ago."

"And does Steve play golf by any chance?"

* * *

"See you tomorrow, Cat." Greg heard Sara say as she was walking down the hall after shift. 

"Sara!" Greg yelled, running down the hall. "Sara." He didn't stop in time and ran right into her, knocking her bag off her shoulder and all its contents to the floor."Sorry." He apologized, bending down to pick up her purse and car keys that flew out. "I'm so sorry…here."

"Greg…what!"

"Are you going to ask him, huh…are you?" He asked, overly excited.

"I thought about it…but I don't know. I said only once, and I don't want to mess it up."

"Now just go down to his office, knock on the door." He demonstrated, overly exaggerated and sashaying like he, for some reason, assumed all women did. "Then when he opens the door, just smile and casually ask him if he has any other suggestions for decomp smell because the lemons are just not working for me…Greg. Then you bring up dinner."

"You…you know, that just might work." She said, surprised. "And I am taking dating advice from you who had to look the internet to find women and most likely can't even remember his last real date because it's been so long." She shook her head as she continued down the hall towards Gil's office. Greg watched her walk away a quick moment before he headed to his car.

* * *

Greg walked into his apartment and threw his jacket on the same chair as he always did. He grabbed a pint of Ben and Jerry's out of the freezer. But instead of heading over to the computer, he took a seat on the couch in front of the television. 

He knew there was no use with the computer. Sara was the only person with whom he ever talked. His guess was that she'd be too busy to type back. Plus, he had taped Saturday Night Live three days ago,but he hadn't gotten the chance to watch it yet.

Ten minutes into the program and half a pint of ice cream later, he heard a knock at the door. He paused the tape and walked over to answer it, his ice cream tagging along.

"Sara?" He asked confused as he opened the door, his voice muffled by a mouth full of ice cream. "He said no?"

"No…I didn't ask." She answered, though not too disappointed. "But I come baring gifts." Greg just stood in the doorway, not saying anything. "Can I come in?"

"Oh yeah, sure." She brought out a basket of lemons from behind her back, but not before hitting it on the door frame, dropping a dozen or so lemons all over the kitchen floor.

"Lemons…you brought me lemons." Greg laughed before he got down on his hands and knees to pick them up along with her. "Thanks."

"Well…I thought you could use them one way or another."

"You're saying it still hasn't gone away? I still smell." He put the last of the lemons back into their basket.

"Um…just a little bit." She confessed picking a hand off the floor to measure the amount with her thumb and index finger.

"You didn't ask Grissom…why?" He sat back up, propping himself up with his arms behind him.

"I don't know."

"Come on."

"I don't know." She did the same.

"You chickened out didn't you…admit it…" He continued to mock her with various chicken noises. But Sara couldn't let that happen...of course not. His obnoxious squawks were ceased by a brush of Sara's lips against his own, then another brush, until he was leaning so far backward that…"Ouch!" He hit his head on the black and white tiles.

"Oh god!" She said down to him. "I'm so sorry." She apologized, running her fingers down his jaw line.

He didn't answer, but kissed her again. "I do too remember my last real date…it was with you." He rolled over, placing Sara on her back and himself sitting above her. "Sara?"

"What?" She looked up to him.

"Now this here…" He kissed her neck. "…this is the kind of thing we don't tell Grissom."

"Our little secret?"

"Exactomundo!"


End file.
